


life will not always feel like this

by untildvsk



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Childhood, Comfort, Feel-good, Fluff, Friendship, Multi, Nostalgia, Not Beta Read, anxiety relief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-25 01:01:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22007383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/untildvsk/pseuds/untildvsk
Summary: I unlaced each strap of my overalls, kicked off my sandals, turned to Mike and flashed my teeth. The wind swept through my hair and undershirt. I spread my arms like wings. I laughed maniacally as I fell, as Richie screamed stupid, nonsensical shit— and for the first time since I was very small— I was happy without second thought.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier (minor)
Kudos: 5





	life will not always feel like this

**Author's Note:**

> hi, everyone. i do this constantly, instinctively– use the losers as sort of a comfort when my anxiety flares up. sometimes, i write it, to help me better immerse myself in their world and their love. let me know if you personally get anything out of this. maybe i'll make it a series. i have endless ideas  
> alex

I had no time to think– perhaps my favorite feeling.

I had no control over the bike, over myself and my exposed shins and elbows. I glided down the hill with such speed, the pedals surrendered. My only power was over the handlebars. I could veer to the left, headfirst into Silver and knock the smug fearlessness off of Bill’s face, or the right, to the ethereal Beverly, with her pale, sun-rosy skin, her ankle-length white dress windswept to hug her frame, her red hair, wild. I had no time to think, just barely a second to look around, in awe of their contentment, the peace of freedom heavy in the whipping air. And just like that, suddenly and quickly, my apprehension of all of this– being ambushed and virtually kidnapped from my own home by a bunch of suspiciously kind strangers– dissolved through my breathless laughter.

That creeping, ever present deep-rooted worry was almost in shock. The ache of my cheek-splitting smile felt too real for me to be dreaming. That odd rush of emotion, sudden and suffocating, felt so familiar, yet completely foreign. I’d experienced it only through cheesy coming-of-age movies and dreamy descriptions of kids lucky enough to not have been raised in Derry, a teenaged battlefield. Until that moment, so simple, but one I’ll surely not soon forget, I honestly doubted its authenticity.

The fall did slow, eventually. The hill merged into a winding stony path, rough and muddy, but not untravelable. With my emotional high, it felt like being thrown blind onto a rollercoaster. A squeak of a laugh escaped my throat, and I hardly thought to feel self-conscious, even as Stan glanced over and chuckled, fondly.

I could see, hazily, peeking through the trees was a neon orange rubber ribbon under a familiar sign. “ _ NO JUMPING _ ”, it commanded, almost lazily. No child of Derry respected any town official enough to obey, if they had even the slightest of temptation. I’ve been here many a time. I think, if Derry wasn’t such a remote  _ wasteland _ , I’d escape to maybe a McDonalds or Starbucks. Sip my iced coffee, stare moodily out the rain-speckled window, maybe fall in love with the awkward, curly-headed kid behind the counter. But, I’m not so blessed. The quarry was our collective best option.

I’d never actually taken the jump, though. Not because I was scared. I wasn’t afraid of the height, at least. I’ve pondered it before, but I’ve always felt sort of  _ silly _ about it, I suppose. I think, if I were to plan it, rigidly and alone leap off, swim to stone, dry myself off with the towel I’d myself left there, and bike right back home– I’d think that’d be sort of disillusioning, wouldn’t it? Perhaps that’s part of the problem; I think too much. Something so sacredly youthful, must be done with spontaneity I just do not have in me. 

Naturally, I’d assume the same of Stanley, Eddie, maybe Ben. But as I ideled, a death grip on my bike, stiff in my hands, they dropped and tossed theirs and all smiled at each other. A few raced to undress, so comfortably, even with me present. Though he showed no obvious signs of unease, Richie caressed his boyfriend’s bare back in a way so uncharacteristically gentle, it made even my, a mere onlooker’s, heart lurch a bit.

Mike, ever considerate, took notice of my careful stare. His lips quirked slightly. He extended a hand, rough and calloused. Unintelligible exclamations, followed by the adrenal bursts of bodies hitting the water, pulled me from the beautiful boy’s eye. I padded forward, marvelling at the six flailing figures in the water below. Dark was quickly creeping in. It was likely past seven, the town’s curfew. I’m not typically one for disobedience, even regarding the most ridiculous of rules, but I felt no alarm; I looked down, and to the smiling boy to my right, and–  _ these are the only people that matter right now.  _

I unlaced each strap of my overalls, kicked off my sandals, turned to Mike and flashed my teeth. The wind swept through my hair and undershirt. I spread my arms like wings. I laughed maniacally as I fell, as Richie screamed stupid, nonsensical shit— and for the first time since I was very small— I was happy without second thought. 


End file.
